


Don't Have To Be a Ghost

by cassiopeiasara



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, More comfort than hurt, Pre-Relationship, patching up wounds, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeiasara/pseuds/cassiopeiasara
Summary: Post s8. Valerie tries to patch herself up after a fight. Lucille finds her and does it for her while they have a much needed talk.





	Don't Have To Be a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amusedrhyme (lazarus_girl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarus_girl/gifts).



> A/N: This fic sprung from a post amusedrhyme sent me on tumblr about Character A holding Character B's chin asking "who did this to you?" I hope you enjoy it friend. Title comes from Florence and the Machine's "Third Eye" which is quoted at the beginning of the fic.

> Hey look up
> 
> You **don't have to be a ghost** here amongst the living
> 
> You are flesh and blood 
> 
> and you deserve to be loved

 

The house is unusually quiet when Valerie stumbles in. A small mercy since there’s nothing she wants less than her colleagues to see her like this. She turns and heads straight through the halls to her destination.

Her hips ache and her feet drag as she walks. She hisses when she almost hits the doorframe but is glad when the supply room is empty. She dismisses the sight of her knuckles, her skin bloodied and torn as she reaches for a suture kit and gauze.

There is a small mirror near the instrument case and Valerie grabs it, sitting down near her usual station. She shrugs as she takes in the sight of herself. _Could be worse_ , she thinks. Just as she opens the kit, there’s the sound of soft footsteps. She sighs, cursing the fact she hadn’t checked the board to see who is on call. She could make a run for it but the sharp pain in her hip tells her she wouldn’t make it.

“Valerie?”

Her heart leaps at the familiar voice though she can’t quite manage a smile when she turns. “Lucille,” she replies simply.

She’s in her lovely green dress, the one from Election Day and Valerie feels as if that were a lifetime ago rather than the few months it’s been.

Lucille approaches slowly and Valerie knows as sure as anything she’ll want an explanation. A cup of tea to mull over what’s happened. As much as Lucille’s company is something Valerie craves, explaining her state is not.

Lucille squints at her, tilting her head to take in her face from all angles. She gently cups Valerie’s chin and Valerie hates how she almost instinctively leans into Lucille’s touch.

“Who did this to you?” Her voice is firm but soft. It’s the one she uses with patients and Valerie scoffs at the care in it.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answers. And truly it doesn’t because her gran is still in prison and the world feels as if it will never right itself again.

Lucille stills for a moment and Valerie is sure she might leave. There’s a yearning in Valerie despite her initial desire to be alone that hopes Lucille will stay. That she’ll act against this pulling away and chide Valerie like she always does but as much as Valerie wants it, she doesn’t feel she deserves it.

Lucille let’s go of her chin and places her handbag on the counter. She turns but instead of walking out, she moves to the sink to wash her hands. She’s gentle as she comes back to Valerie, stitching the cut on her face and wrapping her knuckles without a word.

Valerie wants to speak. To somehow find the words to explain what this emptiness feels like. She wants more than anything to have Lucille wrap her arms around her and tell her that everything will be all right. It’s a feeble hope she knows and even this simple care feels like more than she deserves. She’s barely spoken to or acknowledged Lucille in months.

“Tea?”

Valerie blinks as she looks up. Lucille’s face is soft as she waits for an answer. It would be so easy to say no, as she’s done numerous times before, but somehow she can’t seem to. Instead, she nods her head and gets up.

Valerie tries her best to swallow her hiss as her hip roars with pain but the slight tilt of Lucille’s head lets her know she hasn’t missed it. They’re quiet as Lucille moves about the kitchen. Valerie wonders about Lucille’s date with Cyril. Lucille looks less and less thrilled as she comes home from their outings and her smiles barely reach her eyes.

Lucille sets a cup in front of her and takes her usual place opposite Valerie. “Are you going to stop?”

Valerie knits her eyebrows. “What?”

Lucille sighs. “Do you think I don’t see you walking around here like a ghost? That I don’t hear the stories of you fighting at your aunt’s pub every time you go to make amends?”

Valerie opens and closes her mouth a couple of times. The answer is no truthfully. Sure she’d thought Lucille might notice her pulling away but there was Cyril, their work and church to keep her too busy to wonder about Valerie. “I’m not sure, I--”

Lucille places a gentle hand on Valerie’s forearm and Valerie feels herself fall a bit at the tenderness. When was the last time she let anyone this close? “I’m here. I’m right here if you just talk to me.”

Valerie presses her lips together and shakes her head. The problem with talking is how hard it is to put words to how she feels. Speaking the truth would only make everything more real. Her gran killed women. Her aunt never wants to see her again and her childhood friends think she’s a traitor. How is she supposed to cope? Where are the words for the weight of loneliness and shame that leaves?

Lucille starts to stroke her thumb along Valerie’s arm. “I don’t know when in all of this you forgot what you mean to me. Maybe I haven’t been--”

Valerie reaches out, her hand shaking and covering Lucille’s. “No, please don’t think,” she sighs, “it’s not anything you’ve done. I’m just...I can’t seem to...”

Lucille nods as if she already knows. “Could we just start with these knuckles and the cut?”

Valerie nods and almost gasps as Lucille turns her palm up so they’re holding hands. “I went to the Black Sail and my aunt she,” Valerie shakes her head knowing that can’t be the place she starts then tries again, “there was a man there. Gabe from Gran's block. He spit on my shoe and told me I... I wasn’t fit to be in a place with honest people. That someone who betrays their family couldn’t...” she trails off and blinks back tears, “I tried to leave well enough alone. I’ve heard that and worse.” She takes a breath and looks away from Lucille. Her eyes trace a crack in the wall as she continues, “He kept pushing and she wouldn’t look at me and finally he got too close and I--”

Lucille squeezes her hand. “He struck you first?”

Valerie nods. “Said it was the least he could do for what I’d done,” she pauses and shakes her head, “I delivered his little girl last year and looked after his mum when she died but here he is telling me I’m not worth anything. That I’m ungrateful and... It shouldn’t matter what he thinks. It shouldn’t but my aunt just stood there like it was justified. Looked on like she agreed.”

Lucille places her other hand atop Valerie’s, cradling her now shaking hand. “He’s wrong. You did what you had to do. You have a duty to your patients and your community and--”

The tears come more easily than Valerie likes as she looks up at Lucille. “But at what cost?”

Lucille gives her a gentle smile as she stands and crosses to her. Her arms easily find their way around Valerie’s shoulders. Valerie cries into her chest as Lucille strokes her hair. “You did everything you could, darling girl. The best with what you knew. It isn’t easy but it was the right thing.” She squeezes Valerie then, making soft reassuring sounds and humming.

Valerie lets herself be held and eventually the soft melody of Lucille’s voice soothes her cries and she feels something loosen in her chest.

She sniffles and pulls back. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Lucille gives her forehead a simple kiss. “There is nothing to apologize for,” she cradles Valerie’s cheeks between her palms and Valerie feels that all too familiar ache for something she shouldn’t want. Lucille strokes her cheeks with her thumbs, careful of her bandage. “Promise me something?”

Valerie nods feeling as if Lucille could ask for the moon and she’d supply it.

Lucille looks at her a moment, her eyes pleading soft and hesitant. “Don’t hide from me, hmm?”

Valerie bites her lip. “I, I didn’t want--”

“I told you I’m here. Please,” she presses her hand against Valerie’s cheek, “let me be here for you.”

Valerie nods. “Promise.”

 


End file.
